


Yes, love

by Laramie



Series: Things you said [21]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Bates had been nearly twenty years cold in the ground when his grandson had his first proper birthday party, turning eight.</p><p>Thomas slips out of the party, and Jimmy follows to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Impala, I dedicate this to you, because when I think of Baxley, I think of you. Also, you're lovely.
> 
> CWs: smoking, VERY brief mention of character death in the first sentence, mention of war

**June 1954**

John Bates had been nearly twenty years cold in the ground when his grandson had his first proper birthday party, turning eight. Annie, the boy's mother, had baked enough cake and made enough sandwiches to feed an army. More party food had been made by Jonah, the cook at Anna Bates' B&B. Annie's husband, Ben, had made hanging decorations from old bits of metal he had found at the docks; they glinted prettily in the lights of Annie's small flat.

Thomas and Jimmy had contributed, too - Thomas by making miles upon miles of paper chains, and Jimmy by lending his old gramophone and some records.

They had been planning the party for weeks, and now, Jimmy thought, watching birthday boy Sam running between his friends and family, it was all paying off. There were more people crammed into the flat than could really comfortably fit, but everyone was making do. Even Phyllis and Joseph Molesley had made it all the way down from Scotland for the weekend. Thomas had been delighted to hear that they were coming, as they did not manage the long trip very often these days. Jimmy had been watching as Thomas and Phyllis greeted each other with an embrace, and he was fairly sure that Thomas had cried. Phyllis had rubbed his back and murmured into his ear.

She was talking to two of Sam's friends now, a boy and girl who stared at her wide-eyed as she spoke. She was probably telling them about Scotland. Meanwhile, her husband was across the room, talking to Anna and eating an egg sandwich.

As Jimmy looked around the room, his eyes settled, inevitably, on Thomas, who still wore a form-flattering suit even though that form was just a little bit plumper around the middle than it had used to be. Jimmy saw Thomas talk briefly to one of Ben's friends before slipping out of the living room. A moment later, straining to hear, Jimmy caught the soft sound of the front door closing.

Jimmy hesitated, internally debating whether or not he ought to follow; in the end, some instinct told him that he should. He went out into the deserted hallway and descended the steps. At the bottom, he paused, wondering if perhaps Thomas had just gone out to fetch more bread or something. Jimmy tapped his fingers on the banister rail and headed towards the back door which led to the tiny courtyard at the back of the building.

The door was ajar; through it, Jimmy could see Thomas with a freshly lit cigarette between his lips. Jimmy's breath caught, and he froze a step or two from the door, gripped by the image before him. It was both strange, and achingly familiar. Neither of them had had a cigarette in nearly a year now, since Jimmy's scare, but before that, the sight of Thomas with a cigarette had been an incredibly common one.

Jimmy forced himself onwards, out through the door and across a few yards of cracked paving stones to stand next to Thomas in the few rays of sunlight peeping over the roof of next door's toilet extension. Thomas's left hand rested on his walking stick and held a packet of cigarettes. Jimmy reached for them, thinking that if Thomas was going to have a smoke then he was damn well going to do the same - but Thomas slapped his hand away.

"Not for you. Think of your heart."

Jimmy crossed his arms and scowled at the ground. He couldn't help but feel a tiny bit betrayed, even though Thomas had never had to give up smoking with him in the first place. "Hate you," he grumbled insincerely.

"I know," Thomas replied easily, but there was a strange heaviness in his voice.

Jimmy shuffled closer and put his forehead on Thomas's shoulder. He saw Thomas's hand raise the cigarette to his lips, felt him take a deep breath, and heard him let it out in a long sigh before dropping the barely-started cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. Thomas rested his hand on Jimmy's upper back and Jimmy tilted his head to plant a kiss somewhere in the region of Thomas's collarbone before straightening up.

"What's the matter, then?"

"It's nothing," Thomas said, turning his gaze to the distant blue sky.

"Yeah, it is. What's up?"

"It's nothin'," Thomas repeated. "I'm just being silly, really."

"'Bout what?" Jimmy pressed.

Thomas shrugged. "Those kids in there don't even know what an air-raid siren sounds like."

"I know," Jimmy said, with a hint of pride. " _We_ did that. Sort of. The first time around, anyway." They had both been too old to be conscripted for the Second World War, though Jimmy had been at risk of it for the first few months. He still felt as though he had something to do with the safety of the kids upstairs, though. He'd done his share of fundraising for Spitfires, too.

Thomas was quiet for a bit. Jimmy watched a single fluffy cloud meandering high above him and waited to see if Thomas would say anything else.

"It's just strange," Thomas said eventually. "It was something that everyone went through, the whole country, and now all these people are growing up who didn't experience it at all." He smiled ruefully and tapped the tip of his walking stick on the paving stones, making a sharp _tunk_ sound ring in the air, saying: "I'm feeling my age, I suppose."

"Old man," Jimmy said softly; it was more a term of endearment than an insult, these days, and Jimmy often found himself saying it in the hushed, reverent tone he usually reserved for saying 'I love you'. 'Old man' was a safer phrase to let slip in company than the other. Jimmy had long been wary of saying 'I love you' too often, lest it become too easy, and put them in danger one day.

"I am, though," Thomas said seriously. "Feel like I'm bein' left behind sometimes. I'm the old guard, like Carson back in the day. Irrelevant. Silly old man with a gadget shop."

Jimmy didn't know how to comfort him. He had never been good at knowing what to say under pressure - he rehearsed endlessly before any important conversation to avoid ballsing it up. He had improved as he grew older, experience lining up with suggestions whenever he found himself searching for words - but nothing made him feel quite as helpless as being unable to help someone he loved. "You're not irrelevant to me," he finally said in a small voice.

After a few quiet breaths, Thomas met Jimmy's eyes and gave a gentle, but genuine, smile. He reached for Jimmy's left hand and brought it to his lips to kiss the steel ring on Jimmy's third finger. "My wonderful husband," he murmured, the same adoration shining in his eyes that had always been there.

"My beautiful wife," Jimmy responded with a wink.

"Cheeky," Thomas said, even as he unfurled Jimmy's fingers to lay his hand against his own cheek. Thomas nuzzled against Jimmy's hand, still meeting his gaze with great affection as Jimmy acquiesced to the unspoken request for a caress, and stroked his fingertips over the loose skin covering Thomas's jaw.

"Right then," Jimmy said eventually. "We'd best drag ourselves back up those stairs or we'll miss the cake-cutting."

Thomas nodded and kept hold of Jimmy's hand as they went inside.

"And one more thing," Jimmy added, his foot on the first stair. "You'd better give those cigarettes back to whoever gave them to you the moment we get back upstairs. If I can't smoke, you can't - it's only fair."

Jimmy glanced behind him to catch Thomas's smirk as he said: "Yes, love."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Things you said instalment that isn't from a prompt! I was just thinking about WWII and how strange it must have been/still be for those who lived through it to be getting older and becoming a smaller and smaller part of the population. I'm not sure I'm expressing my thought very well, but that's where it came from.
> 
> Title comes from an interview I saw once with a couple who had been married a really long time. Asked what their secret to a happy marriage was, the man answered, "Yes, love." Given that my ending was already going to be "Yes, love," it seemed fitting.
> 
> Right, I'll get back to writing my 6k-word monster-WIP, now.
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
